KissAGram
by Hallow Eve
Summary: I go to parties and I kiss people. With outfits. It's a laugh." Amy/Ten. Amy/Eleven.


Title: Kiss-A-Gram

Pairing: Amy/Ten, Amy/Eleven

Rated: T for safety

Warnings: my rubbish writing and characters snogging.

Note: Had this idea pop into my head while watching the first episode of the new series. I was thinking about what would happen if Amy had met the tenth Doctor and this all sort of formulated in my head while I was drifting off to sleep, so if it seems crazy then blame my subconscious :p

Still the idea wouldn't leave me alone so here it is and I figured I'd go ahead and post it. Enjoy.

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She was late.

She should have been lifting her hand to knock on the plain white door of the plain white house and making her apologies, all with a sultry smile and fluttering eyelashes.

Instead, Amy Pond was standing outside in the freezing cold, staring up at the cloudless night sky and counting stars. It was a habit she'd picked up sometime between her first and second psychiatrist that she couldn't seem to break. It gave her a sense of calm and allowed her to marshal her thoughts.

After taking a few deep breaths of the frosty air, she pasted on a smile that hopefully didn't look as forced as it felt and rang the bell.

The door opened almost immediately and, when she felt the warmth inside spill over her skin, she sighed in relief and relaxed a little. Loud rock music almost overwhelmed her, no longer muffled and muted. The man standing before her had blue eyes and blond hair and looked a little too happy to see her and she wondered if she'd have to explain, once again, that she wasn't a stripper.

He smiled and invited her in, brushing his hand over her backside as she passed in too firm a way to be accidental. Amy repressed a shudder of revulsion and allowed her smile to widen.

"Kiss-A-Gram," she announced cheerfully and the man grinned, eagerly eying her up.

"Was expecting you," he said. "Tony's in the den. It's his birthday."

She knew this already. It was usually either birthdays or bachelor parties. She said nothing, of course, and merely nodded politely.

He ushered her in hurriedly and she caught a glimpse of plain white walls and a set of stairs before she was pushed down the narrow hallway and emerged into the living room.

Amy gazed at the people packed into the small room with disinterest and was suddenly met with leering looks from all around. The music was turned down and a space cleared among the crowd as a young man was pushed forward amidst cheering and whistles.

He looked to be no more than eighteen and she felt a little sorry for him as he averted his eyes and shuffled nervously in place, obviously not liking being the center of attention.

She walked up to him slowly, letting a smile curl her lips as she went, the clicking of her heels seeming very loud in the sudden hush of the room as all eyes followed her progress.

He lifted his eyes to her when Amy reached him and she leant forward, placing one hand carefully against his flushed cheek when she leaned in.

"Happy birthday, Tony," she whispered seductively before placing her lips upon his. She pulled back and gave him a peck on the cheek before stepping away and clearing her throat.

"Chris congratulates you on turning eighteen and wishes you a very happy birthday," she recited with a wink.

After more cheering, catcalls, and having a few unwanted mobile numbers foisted on her, the music returned to it's blaring volume. She turned to leave like she usually would, already counting the minutes until she was home as she pushed past different people dancing.

It was as she was trying to get past two very drunk gentlemen intent on getting her name and number that she spotted him.

He was leaning against a window, staring up at the night sky and her heart leapt into her throat because he looked like _him_. It could be the exact same suit: brown with blue pinstripes, blue dress shirt, blue tie; he was even wearing white converse.

Amy blinked and suddenly she was standing next to him though she couldn't remember moving, and was staring up at him as her heart sunk to somewhere past her stomach because this close up it was clearly not _him_.

This man was much thinner. So skinny it was almost alarming, he had dark brown hair that stuck up wildly, complete with sideburns, and skin much too pale.

He turned to face her and she realized with a start that she'd been standing there staring at him for much longer than was appropriate and that she'd invaded his personal space while she was scrutinizing him.

She flushed with embarrassment as she stepped back and opened her mouth to apologize when her eyes met his and words abandoned her.

His eyes were dark and filled with something nameless and ancient and suddenly she was seven years old again--

"_I'm the Doctor. Do everything I tell you, don't ask stupid questions, and don't wander off."_ -

-standing in her garden with a flashlight, having just heard a blue police box crash into the shed outside.

The man cleared his throat pointedly and she forcibly dragged herself back to the present.

"Oh, um, sorry," she said, dazed, having to shout slightly to be heard, "It's just... you reminded me of someone I met a-- a while back."

"You'd be surprised how often I get that," he responded enthusiastically. "What an... interesting outfit you have on there."

From anyone else Amy would have thought they were flirting but he seemed genuinely curious, as though her choice of clothing was fascinating. She felt incredulous for a moment-- hadn't he witnessed the scene she'd made when she'd entered?-- before smiling and shrugging. His answering smile was honest and happy and made her feel pleasantly warm.

The particular outfit she'd donned for tonight's party was simple enough if not suitably sexy. It was a nurse's uniform, vivid white with a low neckline and short skirt. She'd chosen to wear a wig tonight, and had tucked her fiery locks under the brown curls. A nurse's cap and makeup took care of the rest.

"It was lying about at home," Amy joked and he chuckled.

He pushed himself away from the window and tucked his hands into his pockets. "I'm the D-- I mean Smith. John Smith."

She couldn't help the raised eyebrow at the common title that almost certainly wasn't his. Well, two could play at that game. " I'm Amanda."

"Nice to meet you."

"Yeah. So... you like stars?" she questioned curiously, glancing out the window.

"You could say that," John replied, obviously amused.

She turned to ask if he could point out any constellations because she could never seem to find any and, for the first time, saw him properly. He had dark circles under his weary brown eyes and, upon closer inspection, his dress shirt looked wrinkled and slightly dingy. His tie was knotted about his neck and his suit was creased and frayed in places.

"Are you alright?" she blurted out, deeply concerned though she wasn't sure why.

He blinked, taken aback at her words. "I'm fine," John murmured, his soft voice almost swept away by the music, his eyes taking on a glassy quality.

He swayed for a moment and Amy panicked, because he obviously wasn't okay, when he reached out a shaky hand and leaned against the window once more, shaking his head slowly.

She stepped up to him and laid a tentative hand on his arm.

"Hey. You okay? What is it?" she said gently.

"I should go. But I can't. Not yet. Still so much more to do. I know this will be it. But I can't ignore a message like that..." He didn't seem to have heard her as he mumbled to himself furiously. Amy was just considering calling 999 for help when he seemed to come to, grinning happily at her and shaking her hand vigourously, spouting excuses about needing to leave and something about an odd or an Ood.

John walked past her, his hand hand slipping from hers with an air of finality when she spun about and grabbed his sleeve, forcing him to stop.

His brown eyes met her blue with a question in them, but she couldn't speak. Tears sprang to her eyes and she wanted to cry like she hadn't done in years though she couldn't for the life of her explain it.

Instead, Amy took hold of his tie and hauled him closer, throwing her arms around his neck as she hugged him fiercely. He wrapped his arms about her waist and she buried her face in his shoulder, inhaling a slightly familiar scent--

_She stood behind him, his hand holding hers tightly as he pointed the glowing tube at the crack in her wall and she didn't feel as afraid as she knew she should have._

-- "Please. Be careful." It was a plea and an order at the same time.

"Thank you," he whispered into her ear.

When she pulled back she gave him a smile she was sure didn't reach her eyes. His arms fell from her and, with one last piercing look, he was swallowed by the crowd. She made her way to the front door and slipped outside, the crisp air a relief to her now.

She walked home and tried not to think of brown eyes, blue ties, and broken promises.

When she saw her house she did not go straight inside, though the thought of a blanket and a cup of hot tea tempted her but, instead, circled around back to the garden.

For the first time in so many years, Amelia Jessica Pond sat on the wet grass next to the shed and decided to wait--

"_Do I even look like people?"_

--and as she waited for the longest five minutes of her life to be over, she counted the stars.

_One, two, three, four...._

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Sorry for any mistakes, errors, etc. I just figured it would be interesting if Amy had met ten on the job and to my sleep addled mind it made perfect sense that the Doctor might be at a random party trying to 'live life to the fullest' and all that, running himself ragged before having to meet with the Ood (he did seem like he'd had fun before hand).


End file.
